The events of the 15th of Limestone, 1066Vash sat at his desk, staring at the little sheet of paper he had taken from the pillar. He'd been staring at it for nearly an hour, the charcoal pencil he held poised just above it starting to cramp his hand. A few times he'd tried to write something, whatever had popped into his head, but as he pressed the tip to the parchment the idea turned to ash in his head, something stupid - not worth it.
"All those times as a child - who am I kidding - all those times spent around the beer barrels talking of wishes, of what would be done with immense wealth, and now that I have the option, nothing sounds right," he said, just to hear something in his silent room.
Pushing back from the desk, he stood and paced the small area around his room, his hands locked behind his back. He stopped when he heard from shouts from the hallway, and moving to the door, he opened it to listen better.
"What are you DOING down here!"
"Getting something to eat, si-urk!"
Stravitch's mace clanged off the steel breastplate Vatek had taken to wearing all hours of the day, but the guardsman still stumbled backwards, rebounding off a wall before he fell to the ground coughing. Stravitch stalked into view, glaring from under his bushy eyebrows. "Eat out at the construction site! Have one of the masons bring it to you with his stones - but don't leave!"
Shutting his door, Vash hurried over to his desk. His pencil was a blur over the parchment, scrawling across the back of the paper
Kill Stravitch Fillwhip. Steel for Steel.
He quickly placed the steel coin he'd kept in his pocket in the center of the paper, and folded it four ways. Taking up the candle, he poured wax along the folds, sealing it shut.
That night, he reached the pillars, making sure he wasn't followed. His sealed letter was stuffed back in the hole, and Vash was off, heading back for his room - and hopefully, soon, a calmer fortress.
***
The events of the 16th of Limestone, 1066Rice stopped in front of the gate, carrying a chunk of cinnabar in his thick leather gloves. He saw Merchants, hardy Dwarves with their wagons and guards trundling towards their fort, and smiled. Turning to Erandor, he said, "Huzzah! More trade! This is your first Dwarven Caravan with us, yes? You're in for a real treat."
"I suppose I am," Erandor said, "but is there a reason they're coming towards us so fast?"
Blinking, Rice turned to look at the caravan again. They did seem to be moving at a full march, and a few of the merchants were well ahead of the pack on their mules. As the animals hit the bridge, one of the Merchants vaulted off the side, sprinting towards them, waving his hands, "RAISE THE GATES! Hurry! Raise the gaaaates!"
"What?" Rice said, confused, "Why would we do that?"
"GOBLINS!" the merchant screamed, moving out of the way as the first of the wagons rolled in. "They're on the march, a whole horde of 'em - bigger'n I've ever seen."
"Oh, no..." Erandor said, trembling, "The half breeds. They're coming here, too... oh no."
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Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 385130 times)